


Bludgered

by wynnebat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Feelings Realization, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: Quidditch as a metaphor for love.
Relationships: Sirius Black/James Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 118





	Bludgered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queerofthedagger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerofthedagger/gifts).



> Valentine's Day 2020 ficlets. Prompted by queenofthedagger.

“James,” Sirius says with a deep, world-weary sigh that gets him a punch to the shoulder from James. “If you’re going to get Evans to fall in love with you, you have to start being _eloquent_ about it. Talk about why you’re in love with her instead of just telling her you love her. When you think of love, what comes to mind?”

Sirius is already thinking about the dessert he’s going to con out of the house elves as the reward for this hell. Never mind that it’s past curfew; Sirius has earned it after putting up with James’ pining all evening. And, in turn, Sirius’s own stupid, ridiculous pining, always at the forefront of his mind whenever he is with James. It turned sour as opposed to sweet the moment James started going on about Lily, but Sirius is pulling through. All he has to do is suffer for a few more minutes before he pretends to have somewhere to be that isn’t the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.

“I’m no poet,” James says, making a face. “Lily called my love poem to her _cliché_.”

Sirius huffs. “It was.”

He suffers and attack from the pillows in response, which takes over both of their attention for a while until reality returns. Sirius isn’t terribly fond of reality; not when it means looking into James’ eyes with all the love he has to give and knowing that James only sees Lily. Feelings are dumb. So is trying to do the right thing, because this is James, and for James he will always try.

“Come on, poet. Tell me about how you love makes you feel. Use specifics, not platitudes.” Sirius recalls a charm that plays music in one’s ears without revealing the sound to anyone else, but he can’t do it without announcing to James that he doesn’t want to hear the answer to his own request.

James lies back on his bed, hands behind his head. Sirius kicks him from the foot of the bed when he takes too long to answer.

“I’m doing it, stop that,” James grumbles. “Love is... an emotion.”

“You should’ve started the poem with that.”

“I’d like to see _you_ try. Okay, I’ve got it. Love is like going out to practice quidditch in the morning, when it’s raining, and you didn’t get enough sleep because McGonagall assigns too much homework. You’re tired—”

“—and have fallen into the mud already,” Sirius can’t help but add.

James rolls his eyes. “Tired, muddy, wet, and you find that most of your teammates didn’t bother to show up.”

“Because they’re sane, unlike us,” Sirius says, smiling at the memory that James’ words brings up.

“You don’t win games with sanity. Anyway, that’s love, isn’t it? Trying even when it’s pouring rain because there’s nowhere else you want to be. Because there’s something special about—” James stops abruptly, probably overcome with feelings, the jerk.

Sirius settles his chin down on his hand, staring down at James, who in turn is staring wide-eyed at the canopy bed’s ceiling. “She’s the quidditch of your heart. I get that, but I don’t think Lily’s as receptive to sports metaphors. What else do you associate with love?”

“Happiness, excitement, feeling like we’re invincible when we’re together. That’s love, isn’t it?”

“That’s love,” Sirius agrees. Lily is so damn lucky that James likes her, because in this moment, Sirius hates her. Lily, who’s not done a single thing to deserve that hate. Sirius hopes that he can come around one day. Maybe eventually, he’ll fall out of love with James and set his heart on a better target, like literally anybody else.

“And that’s you,” James says, slowly, as if accepting a realization. He looks as though he’s been bludgered by his emotions. “I think of you, not Lily.” James sits up again and suddenly they’re too close and not close enough. “What do _you_ think when you think of love?”

Sirius just kisses him. It’s simpler than words. More honest, too. Love is this: finally kissing his best friend, and being kissed back just as sweetly, as desperately, and marveling at just how lucky he is. And at how good his debate skills are; if he’d known he could get James to fall in love with him with some debate on the meaning of love, he would’ve tried it ages ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [tumblr](https://wynnefic.tumblr.com/).


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